


Cradled

by blueberryfallout



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Baby Fic, Fluff, Look At Your Life Look At Your Choices, M/M, No Kori Bashing, occasional mild angst because jason todd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:06:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8588434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberryfallout/pseuds/blueberryfallout
Summary: haha what the fuuuuuuuck. i hate kid fic and i'm bad at writing it, but the latest red hood and the outlaw comics have finally gotten jason right and they show such a compassionate side of him and i really wanted him to have someone to take care of?? like he was comforting bizarro and i had the sudden thought that he'd be such a good dad so fuck me i guess. enjoy lmao





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> haha what the fuuuuuuuck. i hate kid fic and i'm bad at writing it, but the latest red hood and the outlaw comics have finally gotten jason right and they show such a compassionate side of him and i really wanted him to have someone to take care of?? like he was comforting bizarro and i had the sudden thought that he'd be such a good dad so fuck me i guess. enjoy lmao

Jason runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck.” 

“Don’t swear in front of the baby, Jason.”

Jason holds Tim’s gaze for a good five seconds, finally enunciating clearly, “ _Fuck_.” The kid giggles, reaching out tiny orange fists to grip his finger. “Hi, baby,” he says idly, letting her squeeze. 

Tim has a pinched expression on his face, familiar as the back of Jason’s hand. Grumpy little bird. He eyes the baby, critical; she’s a little big, orange skinned with glowing green eyes, black hair that’s already curling in thick tangles. Beyond the hair, he can’t see anything of himself in her.  
But Kori says she’s his.  
A mistake, a night with Kori rising above him, around him, drowning in her heat, thoughtless. Now this. Kori can’t take care of a baby, she’s too…she’s too Kori. She’ll forget, mix up time like she always does and the baby won’t eat for three days.

It’s a good thing she was responsible enough to realize that, although not after hiding a child from him for a fucking _year_. A year old and Kori accidentally left her behind on a ship that _exploded_ ; thankfully she seems to have inherited Kori’s more indestructible traits, so Jason wasn’t left scraping what’s left of his daughter off the side of a submarine. 

“At least she’s beautiful,” Tim observes, the third most optimistic in the family. 

Jesus, she’s orange. With all that black hair, she kinda… “She looks like Halloween. My daughter is Halloween themed,” he groans, scooping her up. She feels feverish but Kori says that’s just how she is, how they both are. If he’s lucky, it’ll be a while before she also inherits her mother’s starbolts.

Jason pats the back of her head, helpless and hopelessly in love with this kid already. Kori left the ability to name her to him. She’s been calling her ‘yagrath’ which is ugly, but apparently means baby on Tamaran. Whatever, he doesn’t know. 

Catalina was his grandmother’s name, and it’ll do for a baby whose mom is descended from cat people or something. Kori was never very clear on that. Or anything. He really, desperately hopes Roy will be here by tomorrow, a father who was in the same situation just a few years ago. One night stand, surprise baby. So was Bruce, but Jason would rather cut off his fucking hand than talk to him. 

He wouldn’t, ideally, have chosen Tim either, but babybird was here when Kori dropped the kid off so Jason really didn’t have a choice. He looks down at Cat’s sleepy, chubby face. Her cheeks are _huge_. Jason was a tiny baby but apparently Tamaranean genes are ruthless, so his shitty genetic background will be shoved aside. Probably for the best.

“I can’t do this,” he realizes, suddenly more vulnerable than he likes to be in front of the Replacement. Or anyone. Under the wonder at Cat’s perfect little face and the automatic love, fear rises. Jason fucks up everything he touches, leaves friends and family damaged in his wake. He can barely talk to anyone without striking out, blind. 

“Yes, you can,” Tim soothes, stepping closer to stand close to Jason, stroking gently along Cat’s button nose, pushing a curl of hair back. Who knew the Replacement would be such a fan of babies? Tim’s wide brown eyes are soft, lowered so his thick eyelashes fan along his cheeks. He glances up, holding Jason’s gaze, kinder than Jason’s seen him.

It’s discomfiting, Jason suddenly hot faced and nervous, snarling, “I’m a gun toting psychopath, according to you and the rest of the family. What part of that says ideal baby daddy, Tim?” 

Tim takes a step back, hunching his small shoulders; Tim’s always been deceptively delicate looking. Jason, who has been the recipient of several roundhouse kicks to the face, knows better. “We never said that, and you’re better now.” Killing less, not killing at all, actually. Not unless it’s life or death for him. A compromise.

“I don’t…” Jason stumbles over the words he wants to say, about growing up _wrong_ , coming back _wrong_ , not knowing family beyond black eyes and broken ribs. He thinks Tim picks up on it anyway, seems to pick up on everything. World’s second greatest detective. 

“We’ll do okay. At least she’ll be easier than Damian.” They both wince, Jason almost as much of a target for Damian’s ire as Tim or Steph, though it kind of died off when Damian became another member of the Dead Robins Club. He snorts at his own morbid joke, nodding.

“Hmph.” 

“I can help.” Jason’s not expecting this, looking Tim over for signs of lying. Tim’s wearing jeans, a hideous sweater with a dolphin on it, combat boots, and a serious expression. His left arm was broken two days ago, leaving him in a heavy cast and out of the field. “I’m off rotation til my arm’s fixed. I have the time.” 

Tim’s almost pleading, and Jason wonders why he wants to help so badly. Maybe he doesn’t believe Jason will be a good dad, but doesn’t want to piss him off by saying it directly. Or, more likely, Tim’s just a helpful person. He weighs the pros of help with Cat over the cons of having someone, especially another member of the Family, constantly in his space. “I guess…” 

“And she’ll need a birth certificate. Social security number. I can get those for you.”

Jason looks down at Cat, her glowing eyes fluttering shut, sleepy. What does he know about babies? Not enough to refuse Tim’s generous offer, that’s for fucking sure. “Alright, babybird. You have a deal.”  
++  
Jason isn’t sure whether to feel jealous or proud that Cat seems to like Tim more. On the one hand, that’s _his_ fucking kid. On the other, at least she likes nice boys. 

It’s hour four of “Jason is a father” and Cat spent the last 45 minutes bawling, unceasing as he and Tim searched for reasons. Her diaper is fresh, she’s unharmed, recently fed. Jason was frantic, worrying that she’d suddenly developed a disease, or he’d held her wrong and hurt her irreparably even if she is indestructible.

Tim suggested that she misses Kori, which is kind of sad but it’s better than something physically wrong. Tim had taken her from his arms, bouncing her a little, and they’ve both been laid out on the couch for the past twenty minutes, Cat fast asleep, her little fist curled in the fabric over Tim’s heart. It’s pretty fucking adorable if he’s honest with himself. 

Tim has his hand splayed over her back, gently rubbing. “She’ll get used to you after a few days. She’s young enough to forget Kori.” 

“I don’t want her to forget Kori,” he defends; he doesn’t want another Todd growing up without a mom. “I just want her to be happy.”

“Mkay.” Tim himself is getting sleepy; he came here right off patrol, Jason realizes, only meant to stay a couple minutes to discuss a case they’ve been working on. But Kori showed up with a contrite expression and his daughter, a list of info and tiny clothes. He doesn’t blame her. Kori’s Tamaranean, she can’t help being who she is.

Tim’s kicked off his one shoe, left leg dangling. There are bags under his eyes, but there always are, Tim having a sleep debt bigger than the U.S. deficit.

“When was the last time you slept?” Jason asks, concerned. For someone Bruce keeps accusing of being reckless, Jason sometimes feels like the most responsible of the family. He eats properly, unlike Dick, he sleeps well, unlike Tim, he can socialize, unlike Damian, and he doesn’t have total disregard for his own life, unlike Cass. He’s doing pretty good, all things considered, besides the surprise child. Honestly, he expected the next illegitimate kid to be Dick’s.

“Mm…two days ago?” 

“Jesus, Tim.” Tim doesn’t respond, shifting a little, his lips parting. Out for the count. He looks more stressed while sleeping, somehow, a line between his brows, fingers twitching. Jason peels Cat from his chest, tucking her sleepy baby limbs together, kissing her forehead. It almost feels like his lips have been burned. 

There’s no crib yet, and Kori swore he can’t hurt her, so Jason places her on the other side of his bed, tucked under a sheet. She rolls to her back, spread out, her round tummy rising and falling with gentle breaths. His hand can cover her whole stomach, curving over. Where a normal baby would breathe differently, Cat doesn’t seem to notice the weight. Jason’s intensely aware of his bulk anyway, curling around her in a protective comma, letting himself fall asleep and trusting she’ll be there in the morning.  
+++  
Jason wakes up to Cat’s happy cooing, and a kick directly to the stomach that feels like being punched by a kid several years older than she is. He huffs, curling over, realizing he’s going to have to teach Cat restraint _really_ fast. A super strong toddler sounds like a nightmare. 

“That’s one hell of a wakeup call,” he wheezes, and she beams in a gap-toothed smile, getting shakily to her hands and knees before collapsing, still giggling. “Hey, baby girl,” he murmurs, overcome, pressing his face to her round orange tummy. _His_ kid. The beginning of a family he never expected to have. She squirms when he blows a raspberry on her, making cheerful baby noises, and the smile on his face almost hurts. “Who’s my Halloween baby, huh? Who’s my little pumpkin girl?” This is…not Jason’s coolest moment, so of course that’s when Tim clears his throat behind him.

Jason looks over his shoulder, where Tim is standing in the doorway, having changed to boxers sometime during the night but still wearing that hideous dolphin sweater. His eyes skitter over Jason’s bare shoulders, along his arms. Tim’s too dark for a blush to show, but Jason is willing to bet he is anyway. “Uh. Morning.”

“Hola.” Jason rolls off the bed and to his full height, then bends to pick Cat up. She’s started making small whimpering noises, shifting uncomfortably. Her diaper needs changing, Jason has spent enough time with babies to know that.

After a several minute struggle that Cat seems to find hilarious, she’s in a clean diaper and ready for breakfast, which is a cup of peeled grapes, a handful of Cheerios, and yogurt for her, and a ridiculous stack of pancakes for them. 

Cat doesn’t seem overly pleased with her choices, examining one grape between her fingers before squinting at the Cheerios. He can see her choose hunger over pickiness as she grabs a fistful of Cheerios and stuffs them in her mouth, scattering crumbs everywhere. Babies will eat anything, he remembers. He’ll have to babyproof the whole apartment, babyproof his _guns_ cause just the thought of her getting ahold of them puts him in a cold sweat.

He looks to where Tim’s shoveling his pancakes in like Jason’s gonna take them, almost moaning. Jason stares at him in wonder for a while before asking, “When did you last eat?” 

Tim considers this, never pausing in his eating; he’s on his seventh pancake and Jason can only really watch in horrified bewilderment. “Mmph…a day ago?” Tim says through stuffed cheeks. He kinda looks like a chipmunk and Jason kinda thinks it’s adorable.

“Do you ever eat? No wonder you’re so small.” 

Jason isn’t even trying to be an asshole, but Tim’s eyes narrow. “You could at least try to be nice to me, Jason.”

“I’m nice to you!” he protests, pushing one of Cat’s curls back before it gets in her food.

“No, you’re not.” There’s an unexpected depth of hurt in Tim’s voice, and Jason glances at him; he looks like his dog just died, all pouty bottom lip.

“I thought we were good.” 

“What do you want me to say, Jason? You tried to kill me once but that’s okay?” 

“Yes!” 

“Fine. You’re an amazing big brother. Definitely someone I want around.” That stings, but he ignores it; also, he never considered Tim a brother, or Damian. Brothers in arms, not brothers.

He realizes, suddenly, that he never said sorry to Tim, not for the attack when he first returned, or for the shit way he treated him after that. Eying the scar he left on Tim’s throat, he mumbles, “Sorry.” 

“What?”

“I’m sorry I tried to kill you.” Cat is watching with open interest on her face, fist in her mouth now. She’s out of food but uncomplaining, seemingly having inherited Kori’s sweet nature, thank Christ. Jason was an awful, screaming baby by all accounts. Jason can’t look Tim in the eye, choosing instead to eat more of his pancakes. 

“Thanks,” Tim says after a moment, his voice warm. His smile is blinding, beautiful, even with syrup smeared on his chin. Jason makes a kind of ugly choked cough and keeps eating.  
++  
When Jason opens the door to take the trash out, there’s a pile of baby supplies sitting in the hallway; diapers and clothes and a crib and stroller and car seat and even a little stuffed Wonder Woman piled on top of it all. Everything is brand new, streamlined, sturdy. It _screams_ Bruce’s work, silent and swift. He hates owing the old man anything, but Cat is more important than his stubborn anger. At least Bruce had enough thought not to buy a stuffed Batman instead. 

Cat crawls merrily up next to him, using the leg of his sweatpants to pull herself up til she stands, wobbling. She examines the pile, reaching up so Jason takes her in his arms, her weight at his hip already familiar. Thankfully he’s a big man, cause she’s a really fucking heavy baby. 

“Did someone get you presents, pumpkin girl?” he whispers into the delicate shell of her ear. Probably not the greatest nickname, but he does his best. She wriggles, wanting to get down, so he places her on the ground, watching as she totters a few inches then crawling again, reaching for the Wonder Woman doll before everything. That seals it; Cat’s his daughter.

He puts it into her chubby hands, going to pick her up til she pushes him away. “No!” Jason pauses; it’s the first word she’s said. Figures his kid’s first word would be a stubborn no. 

“Okay, baby,” he croons, crouching in front of her. “What else can you say?” She regards him with wide green eyes, grinning and drooling a little. Jason nudges the trash aside so it doesn’t touch her, reaching out to brush a Cheerio from her hair. He’s glad to see that someone else inherited the uncontrollable Todd curls. “Can you say Daddy?” he prompts, hopeful. 

“Da!” she crows, holding her Wonder Woman doll close as she reaches out and lays her hand on Jason’s knee. His throat feels tight, and he bends to kiss her small, chubby fingers, making her laugh. 

“Yes, that’s who I am, pumpkin.” His kid is the _smartest_ , he’s sure of it. He’d see what else she can say, but the trash really does need to be taken out. “Replacement!” he calls, hearing Tim’s movement some ways away. 

“Yeah?” comes the returning yell, Tim making his way from the kitchen. He’s still in his boxers, legs skinny but all muscle. Tim has to work harder for physical stuff than he or Dick, wasn’t raised running and jumping like they were, confident in their bodies. Jason thinks Tim does a good job, pushing himself til he’s not only as good, but better.

“Can you watch Cat while I do the trash and bring this stuff in?”

“Yeah, of course.” She goes willingly when Tim picks her up, taking a fistful of his sweater and babbling ‘Da’ over and over again.  
++  
It turns out that Cat, much like Kori, doesn’t like clothing, preferring instead to toddle around in her diaper. Jason keeps a close eye on her as he and Tim continue their work on the latest case; gun runners down at the docks. Bruce takes the big cases, the supervillain cases. Jason doesn’t mind, he knows his limits and he likes being able to choose. 

Tim shifts closer to point at the computer screen; he smells like the glue they use to keep their masks on, and Jason’s apricot soap. He has a scar on the back of his neck, a thin slash that must have narrowly missed the bones of his spine. There’s a reason Jason’s collar is so high.

Jason examines Tim while he won’t be noticed, curious. They’re not usually so close together, haven’t ever been, actually, except for the time he held a knife to Tim’s neck. Tim is thin, his shoulders very straight, hair cropped close to his head. He was the first black kid Bruce adopted, the first one who actually looked like he could be related to Bruce. He’s easily one of the most attractive members of the family, high cheekbones and pretty smiles. 

Jason lets himself lean in a bit, breath fanning over Tim’s cheek. “So, Replacement, what’ve you got for me?” Tim launches into a detailed explanation of times and locations, precise as ever. One good thing about him is that he gets straight to the point, never wasting time like Dick sometimes does. Eventually Tim shifts in his seat, wincing. “You okay?” Jason asks, eyes still on the screen. 

“My arm hurts,” Tim admits, lifting it. Jason looks to him; Tim’s biting the full curve of his bottom lip, brow furrowed. “I’ll be fine.” Jason knows there’s no point pushing it, so he continues going over the case.

Cat makes her way over to them, Wonder Woman doll clutched tightly in her hand. He can’t wait for her to actually meet Diana one day, Cat will think Jason’s the best dad _ever_. She waits til Tim picks her up one handed, the muscles in his arm straining. Jason’s kid is going to be _huge_ , it’ll be awesome. She’ll never be pushed around by anyone, won’t have to be afraid of men. He’ll kill anyone who lays a hand on her. 

Tim presses a kiss to her hair, not seeming to think about it, arm looped around her waist. Jason read somewhere that babies who get held a lot are smarter, that touch is important. He’s not sure he believes that, cause he’s pretty smart but when he was a kid he only got touched to be hit. 

Jason, distracted, makes goofy faces at her til she breaks into loud peals of laughter. He grins, taking her from Tim, tossing her up in the air as she calls, “Up! Up!” Another new word. He can’t believe this has happened to him, that he has a _kid_ , someone totally dependent on him. It terrifies him at the same time as he’s besotted with her, kissing her warm orange cheek. At least, he thinks, he’s already a better parent than his own.


	2. Dollface

Roy shows up around eleven, arms full of baby supplies. He brings Lian, her hair up in pigtails, regarding everything with solemn brown eyes. More like her mother than Roy, he thinks. 

“So, this is the little monster,” Roy jokes, scooping Cat up and grinning.

She watches with open interest, touching Roy’s orange hair and then her own skin, clearly thoughtful.”Ko? Ko?” 

“That’s not your mom,” Jason interjects, taking her back. “Mom’s somewhere else right now.” There’s a brief pause before he remembers to add, “But she still loves you.”

And she does, in her own way. Tamaraneans aren’t like humans, feel their emotions strongly and act on them easily, but aren’t so great at day to day responsibilities. Kori loves Cat, she just can’t take care of her.

Roy crouches next to his daughter, broad palm between her shoulder blades. Lian is six now but still small, not really much bigger than Cat. “This is Jay’s daughter, Cat,” he explains, and she nods.

“She looks like Koriand’r,” she observes, pronouncing the name correctly in a way none of them have ever been able to. 

“Kori’s her mom, yeah,” Roy says. 

“Oh. Okay, daddy.” Lian smiles at him, apparently satisfied.

“Why don’t you go play with Tim and Cat while I talk to Jay, alright, baby?” She nods, agreeable, and heads off into the living room where Tim’s sitting, patiently helping Cat walk there, brown hand tight in her orange one.

Only when they’re out of earshot does Roy turn to him. “Jesus Christ, Jaybird.” Jason lets out a long breath, slumping into a kitchen chair. Now that Roy’s here everything feels real, feels permanent.  
“ _Fuck_ ,” he groans, placing his forehead on the cool surface of the kitchen table. Again he’s worried that he’ll mess this up, turn Cat into a super villain or worse, a super villain’s punching bag girlfriend. “I wish I was dead again.” 

Roy’s laughing at him, fingers hooked in the front loops of his jeans; there’s always been something warm about Roy’s laugh that he finds comforting. “So dramatic, Jay.” 

Jason thinks of Roy when Lian first showed up; vacillating between fits of joy and then fear, babbling endlessly about being an addict and unworthy and Jason, personally, had thought that a former addict was a much better choice for a parent than an assassin, but Roy had hated himself anyway.

“Don’t act like you weren’t the same,” he reprimands. 

“That’s fair.” Roy props himself up on the counter, long legs dangling. He’s wearing boots that look older than he is, leaving scuff marks on Jason’s cabinets. “And you’ve got Red Robin helping out.” 

“Yeah,” Jason says, slow, knowing by the curve of Roy’s smirk that he has more to say. “He’s off rotation for a while and offered to help.” 

“Sure, Jaybird. It’s definitely not cause you’re in love with him.” 

“Roy!” Jason hisses, glancing towards the living room where Tim’s showing Lian his bo staff, apparently unable to hear them. Roy cackles, shaking his shaggy red head.  
++  
After Roy leaves, after hours of his sly glances, it’s almost time for bed. Cat is clearly sleepy, demanding attention from both of them. She still has dried peas in her hair from dinner that Jason patiently picks out, smoothing her hair back when he’s done, crooning, “There you go, pretty girl.” 

“She’s gonna be daddy’s little girl,” Tim observes, teasing. “You’ll spoil her rotten.” He’s a little softer around the edges, had a few drinks with Roy over dinner. Figures baby bird would be a lightweight. 

“Da!” Cat agrees, and Jason can’t resist picking her up, squeezing her tight. 

“I’m gonna go put her to bed,” he tells Tim, who nods, turning the TV on. 

“I’ll be out here.”  
+  
Cat doesn’t go to bed willingly, squirming as he changes her diapers, fits pajamas over her head. All that hair makes everything difficult-it’s just like Kori’s, looking like a cloud but thick, the strands strong as steel. He watched, on one memorable occasion, as Kori choked a man out with it. 

“Come on, honey,” he begs, pushing aside one too-strong arm as she fights being put in her crib, bawling. 

“No! No! Bad!”

“Hijo de puta,” he curses, finally getting her laid in the crib even as her fingers grasp at his forearms, nails digging in. “You have to go to sleep, Cat.” 

“No!” It’s amazing how loud something so small can be, Jason’s ears already hurting. 

“You were falling asleep out there!” he argues, knowing she can’t understand but all the websites he’s been on say talking to her like an adult will improve her vocabulary.

“No!” He manages to extricate himself from her, watching her screw up those big green eyes and cry, feeling like a monster. 

“I’m sorry, pumpkin,” he says as he slips out of the room, closing the door, her cries still audible.

Tim’s looking at him from the couch, his chin hooked over the back, broken arm dangling. “Is she okay?” 

“I think so. Are babies supposed to cry like that?” 

Tim gives him a look. “I’m an only child. We’re _all_ only children.” Jason’s fairly certain, barring another accident, that Cat will be too. 

“Fuck off, Timmy,” he answers without heat, hopping easily over the back of the couch to land next to him. The TV is showing something esoteric and pretentious and in French, because Tim’s smarter than all of them and doesn’t even know he’s showing off. “Just watch the movie.”  
+  
When Cat’s crying recedes to pathetic, hiccupping whimpers Jason just has to go get her. Tim raises an eyebrow when he jumps up, cursing. “Fuck, I can’t take it anymore.” 

“You’re weak,” is all Tim says, like they weren’t both equally anxious.

Cat’s standing when he enters the room, clutching the bars with small orange fingers, wailing again. He sweeps her up, pressing kisses to her wet face, apologizing. She’s even hotter than usual, worked up; when that happens to Kori, she makes starbolts.

“It’s alright, pumpkin,” he promises as she presses her face to his neck, finally quieting down. Crooning softly in Spanish seems to calm her, like father like daughter, apparently. 

Carrying her is a bit of a struggle, so he brings her back outside, where Tim is passed out, lying on his broken arm. Jason isn’t as much of a dick as Tim seems to think he is, at least he hopes not, so he rolls him to the other side, settling near his feet with Cat on his lap facing him.

She wraps a hand in Jason’s shirt, pulling the collar tight; at this rate, everything he owns will be stretched out. Her nails are thicker than human and slightly pointed, more like claws. He imagines cutting them will be a hassle, but most things seem to be, his kid as stubborn as he is. “I love you,” he murmurs, kissing her nose, watching her screw it up and smile. “My Halloween baby,” he teases, bouncing her a little, delighting in her happiness. Tim stirs, so Jason hushes her, grinning, and turns her around to where the TV’s playing L’humanite.  
++  
He blinks awake with his neck aching and the sun in his eyes, hearing Cat’s babbling in the kitchen. He must’ve fallen asleep without meaning to, head craned back. Tim’s speaking to her, cheerful, lighter than Jason usually hears him. “And then maybe we’ll go to the park, Cat. You’ll like the swings.” 

Jason falls to the side, content to stretch his shoulders out and listen to them. “Da?”

“Dad can come too, yeah.” There’s the sound of plates being taken down, a clatter and smash when Tim drops one. “Shit!”

Jason’s up and off the couch in seconds, to the kitchen where Tim’s standing amid ceramic shards, Cat next to him. There’s blood on the floor. For a brief moment Jason’s heart stops, before he realizes it’s Tim’s, his foot cut open. Still bad, but it’s not…Tim gets hurt worse than this on patrol all the time.

Cat steps merrily on the biggest piece, watching it crunch under her invulnerable skin. “Ouch,” she observes, pointing at the cut on Tim’s foot. “Bad.” Jason kind of wonders how she knows what ouch is, if she lived with Kori who’s pretty much indestructible, but maybe some things are universal. 

“Yes, pumpkin. Tim got hurt.” 

“I’m fine,” Tim insists, wincing when he shifts and the cut on the top of his foot bleeds more. “I’ll just hop right over this.” 

“Jesus Christ, Timmy. Don’t be a martyr.” Jason reaches out, settling his hands on Tim’s waist, waiting til Tim sighs and puts his hands on Jason’s shoulders. Lifting him is easy; Cat is almost as heavy as he is, Tamaraneans being built denser. Putting him down is…less easy; Jason wants to keep his hands where they are, curled around Tim’s skinny hips, fingers digging into the bone there, his skin touching Tim’s where his waistband dips. 

Tim’s fingers clench on Jason’s shoulders as he’s dropped on the table before Jason reaches an arm out and snags Cat, too; she seems to be having a great time, at least. “Ouch!” she says again from her place next to Tim, letting her legs swing. Tim must’ve changed her before breakfast, into a fresh diaper and green t-shirt that’s made of the same fabric as Kori’s costume. 

“Yes, pumpkin. Tim’s hurt.” 

Tim’s pulled his leg close to his face, examining the wound with an uninterested expression. “Don’t worry, Cat. I’ve had worse.” Jason, kneeling with bandages already in his hand, smiles to himself. Everyone in this family is so weird about admitting to pain, himself included. Bruce’s emotionally stunted work, probably. 

The cut is shallow enough that it’s just a matter of cleaning it out and applying bandaids, very aware of how thin Tim’s ankle is between his hands, toes flexing. Cat seems to think it’s hilarious to kick out every so often, tapping the side of Jason’s head, ruffling his hair. 

“No kicking,” he orders, stern. It’s important, he’s pretty sure, to lay down ground rules with a super strong child. She might not understand it all now, but she will one day. “Humans are delicate. Like Tim.” He grins at Tim’s annoyed noise, smoothing the bandaid down a final time. “All set. You want a kiss?”

Tim pulls his foot away, trying to frown even as his lips twitch at the corners. “Nah. It wouldn’t impress me.”

Jason feels heat flow into his face, hoping his skin is dark enough that Tim won’t notice. “Oh, babybird. I’m _very_ impressive.”

This interesting conversation is halted by Cat grabbing a handful of Jason’s hair and yanking, apparently bored. “Up. Park!” 

Jason’s too happy that she’s learned a new word to scold her for being rough, choosing instead to disentangle her fingers and get to his feet. “Breakfast for Da first, okay?”

“Food,” she agrees, stretching for the yogurt Tim left on the counter, almost falling. All these new words, his daughter is _so_ smart. Tim holds her back with an arm round her waist, smiling soft. Jason leans closer without thinking about it, catching himself before Tim notices. He hopes.  
++  
Cat soaks up sun just like her mom, hair floating about her shoulders, skin glowing just a shade lighter orange. She chatters away from her place in the stroller Bruce bought them; it’s bulletproof, because of course it fucking is. 

“Sun, Da!” Makes sense that she’d know that one, sun being the source of her and Kori’s power.

People are staring as they walk past, none daring to comment. Maybe they can tell that Jason’s just waiting for someone to talk shit about his kid. Or they know he has a gun tucked into the back of his waistband. He didn’t tell babybird, because that would upset him, but Jason always has a gun on him and he’s not planning to change that now. Cat’s indestructible and Jason keeps everything else locked up. It’s fine, right? Well. Jason’s always been good at winging it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's lit


	3. i died once you know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's more, clearly it's devolved into straight fluff because i'm not pretending to be hemingway here or anything anyway enjoy!

“You have a kid?!” Jason jerks awake, reaching for the gun he no longer carries in the apartment, flailing helplessly in his blankets til he falls off the bed. Cat, awake now and standing in her crib, laughs at him. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Dick!” Dick stands at his doorway in full Nightwing uniform, mask off, fingers hooked in the handle of a gallon of Jason’s milk. There are crumbs around his mouth, Jason had _no_ idea he was here and he’s kind of pissed off about that. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Tim pops his head out from behind Dick, hair mussed, sleep creases on his face. “Did you call him?” Jason doesn’t need more of the fucking family here, poking their heads in, thinking they know better about Cat, he has a sudden horrifying vision of Bruce taking Cat away ‘for her own good’ and stands, slipping a knife from under his pillow.  
They’ve all been getting along lately, been good. But not that good. Dick steps back, frowning, his big Disney prince eyes all sad. “I don’t need _any_ of you fucking with my life,” he growls, hearing Cat’s confused whimper behind him, thinking _mine mine mine_ , the only good thing he’s ever made. He rolls his shoulders, feeling angrier and angrier, feeling it escalate like he’s not even there, he’ll _kill them_. 

“Jay.” Tim slips out from behind Dick, holding his hands in front of him. He’s wearing Jason’s Wonder Woman shirt, where did he even find that? Jason snarls at him, he’s another one of _them_ , he’s going to take Cat away and Jason will be alone again. “Jay, this is the Pit talking. Not you.” 

“I don’t…Shut up!” he yells at Tim, turning when Cat bursts into frightened tears.

“Da? Da?” He smooths back her thick hair, murmuring soft noises, catching a glimpse of his face in the mirror behind her crib. His eyes are glowing green, greener than hers. It’s the Pit in him, it’s always the Pit that makes him like this. 

He shakes his head, waiting a second til his eyes are blue again, til his heart slows, then picks Cat up and turns back to Dick and Tim. “I’m. Uh. I’m sorry, guys.” 

Dick, ever the emotional one, sweeps him up in a hug, pressing Cat between him and the uncomfortable plates of his armor. They bend around her invulnerable skin, and she giggles. “It’s fine, Jay. It happens.” When he steps back, Dick is grinning, that smile that gets him out of trouble and into other people’s pants.

He reaches for Cat, waiting til Jason hands her over, and boops the tip of her nose. Like her mother, annoyingly, Cat is immediately besotted with him, slapping her hands gently over the chestplates of his armor and babbling happy nonsense. Dick’s practically got hearts in his eyes.

“This is Uncle Dick,” Jason explains, emphasizing the dick part. The anger is still there, just a bit.

“Mim?” she asks, peering over Dick’s shoulder to look at Tim, who…looks like he might actually cry at hearing she has a name for him. 

“No. Dick.” 

“Mim!” she exclaims, proud of herself.

Dick moves her to one arm, taking a long swig of Jason’s milk straight out the gallon, classless as always. “That’s fine, sweetheart. You’ll get it.” He examines her face, and she smiles back at him. “She kinda looks like Halloween,” he observes. Jason groans.  
++  
Later, when Dick’s gone (after he ate half of Jason’s leftover pizza and finished his burrito from, like, two weeks ago) Tim and Jason are settled at the kitchen table, Cat dozing in Tim’s lap, her head in the crook of his unbroken arm. They’ve been slowly finishing up hot chocolate, that Cat demanded but fell asleep before they gave her any. 

“I’m sorry,” he says for about the fifth time since the Pit thing earlier, having to take Cat back just thinking about it. She makes a high, alien chirruping noise when he settles her against his chest, stretching out. 

“It happens.” Tim shrugs, licking at a droplet of chocolate on his bottom lip, Jason’s eyes immediately drawn there. The Pit isn’t always angry, sometimes it’s…lustful, greedy and grasping and dark, wanting things that Jason won’t admit to himself in the light of day; Tim on his knees, mouth open and wet, hands bound, Jason’s fingers around his neck. He’s working on it, working to keep the Pit at bay. 

“I don’t want it to happen around you.” Because Tim is important, he means, because Tim deserves the best he can give. 

Tim seems to take it differently though, frowning. “I know you won’t hurt me again, Jason,” he says with perfect trust, wrongly placed. Jason hasn’t hurt anyone without meaning to in years, but that doesn’t mean the chance isn’t there. If Cat wasn’t invulnerable, he would be afraid for her, as well. 

Instead of answering, Jason sips his drink, using his other hand to stroke along Cat’s side, feeling the small bumps of her ribs, reminding himself that no matter how hard he presses, they won’t break. His child won’t grow up with broken arms and bruises, a casualty of “accidents” that never seemed to stop. 

“I won’t want to,” he says finally, capitulating as much as he’s able. 

That earns him a smile from Tim, warming in his chest as Cat stirs, waking again. “Da?” 

“Sh, pumpkin, go back to sleep,” he soothes, passing her back when she reaches a hand out for Tim.

She murmurs a quiet, “Mim,” as he holds her close.

“Time for bed?” Jason asks, getting to his feet. Tim nods, following Jason to his room and putting Cat down with only mild protests from her, squirming until she grabs hold of her Wonder Woman doll. 

After, he’s left standing with Tim, very aware that it’s dark and near his bed and if his kid wasn’t here, this would be interesting. As is, Tim is fidgeting with the hem of his truly heinous sweatshirt, this time reading ‘Of course I’m right, I’m Bob’ over a pattern straight out of the nineties and where Tim gets those, he’ll never know. 

“So, uh, night. I guess.”

“Night.” Tim makes his way out of the room and to his spot on the couch, where Jason can see him moving around, settling in for the night. Sleep pulling at his own eyelids, Jason heads to bed.  
+++  
Jason hasn’t been out on patrol in a week, not since Cat showed up, and he’s beginning to itch under his skin, the Pit and old habit calling for a fight. So he leaves Cat with Tim, who’s clearly jealous, suits up in layers of armor and his jacket, straps guns that he rarely uses to kill anymore to his thighs.

“I’ll be back in a couple hours, Replacement. Phone on you the whole time, okay?”

Tim, with Cat in his good arm, one of her chubby feet digging into his hip, nods. “If anything happens, I’ll call.” Jason leans in close to kiss Cat’s forehead goodbye, smelling the ozone smell she shares with her mom, his apricot soap on both her and Tim, and that clean smell that only babies have. It kind of smells like everything he ever wanted. 

“I’ll be back in a couple hours,” he repeats. What could happen, he keeps telling himself. Tim’s a veteran vigilante and Cat survived a submarine explosion without a scratch. They’ll be fine. Whether he will is another question entirely.  
+  
He breaks an hour in, crouched in the rafters about 20 feet above a group of Maroni’s men. Small potatoes, moving coke from Columbia and into Gotham, chatting amicably to each other as they heave boxes from truck to truck. There’s only five guys, two unarmed, one very, very new judging by the way his hand jumps to his gun at every sound. 

Jason remembers those days, when having a gun seemed like protection from everything. He learned very soon how wrong that was, and touches the thin scar along his cheek in remembrance. A warning shot from Deathstroke, more ‘get out of my way’ than ‘I’m going to kill you’. If Slade had wanted him dead, than he would be. Considering Slade was killing a known hitman at the time, Jason had left him alone. 

The men below are loud enough that he risks lifting his cellphone to his ear, hitting Tim’s contact name and waiting only a few seconds til it’s picked up. “Cat’s fine,” is the immediate response, and he lets a breath out. “She’s asleep,” Tim continues. 

“Yeah, I figured,” he says softly, not willing to risk being loud this close in.

“How’s patrol going?” He opens his mouth to say fine at the exact moment as the new guy looks up (which, what the hell? They never look up) 

“It’s a Mask!” he screams, fumbling for his gun.

“Gotcaughtgottago,” Jason says, all in a rush. 

“Wait-” 

“Bye!” He lets his phone clatter to the pavement as he drops, knowing the industrial case he got will keep it safe. New guy gets a bullet to the knee; men like him, they don’t take pain well. Sure enough, he drops yelling, causing the man behind him to stumble over, vulnerable to a nerve strike in the neck that leaves him limp. Paralyzed, though only for a bit. Jason saves permanent paralysis for the real big bads. 

There’s two guys near the trucks that are smart enough to duck behind boxes, but the man caught in the middle just kind of whimpers as Jason descends upon him, with an uppercut that’s cinema worthy, right under the chin so hard he lifts off the ground. He kinda wishes Roy was here to see that. 

Jason rolls for cover when the two men left start shooting, taking refuge behind a tire. “You should just give up,” he yells through the helmet’s voice filters. “I’m a busy man, you know.” The only answer is gunfire, and he sighs to himself; this was actually just supposed to be reconnaissance, teaches him never to use his phone on patrol again. “C’mon, guys!” 

They chance peeking out at the same time, amateurs, and Jason’s whipped batarangs at them in the time it would take most people just to get a gun out. He even used the blunt kind, to be nice. No scarring. Maybe it’ll keep Bruce off his back the next time he really, really needs to kill someone. 

Breathing hard, he lets himself sit for a second, relaxing, before he’s up again, to where the new guy has passed out in a pool of blood. A small one, really. Almost unnoticeable. He won’t be dying anytime soon. Jason zipties the other four thugs together, hands and feet, then calls for Oracle with a special request for an ambulance. He’s a real nice guy. 

Finished, he scoops his phone off the floor and redials for Tim, getting picked up on the first ring. “Good. You made it.” See, that’s the nice thing about knowing a genius. They never require an explanation, don’t require calming down. 

“Yeah, babybird. I made it,” he says as he strolls out of the warehouse, feeling gravel crunch under his boots, then grapnels to the closest tall buildings before the cops can pull up and catch sight of him. “Why? Were you worried?” There are pigeons gathered all over the roof he lands on, feathers scattering in his wake as they take off. Tim’s eye roll is practically visible from here. 

“Of course I was worried. If you die, who takes care of Cat?” he teases, then there’s a long moment as they seriously think about it.

“Shit,” Jason says finally, biting his lip. With the helmet, he can let himself have more facial tics than the others. “Shit, _fuck_.”

“Kori would take care of her. Roy would help. _Donna_ would help, you know she loves you. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” He’s not alone anymore, he has to remember that, has to keep it in the front of his head. 

“I’d take care of her, too.”

Perched on top of one of Gotham’s highest skyscrapers, a popular spot, he has to shake his head. “What?”

“I would take care of her. If something happened. Again.” Again. It’s probably a good thing the family can talk about his death now.

“Babybird, you’re only nineteen.”

“Wow, and you’re 22, Jason.” He doesn’t want to talk about how he was never a kid, not really. Took other kids under his wing when he was on the street. Then again, he thinks about how Tim lost Steph, lost Superboy, lost Bruce, lost his dad, all in one year. Thinks about how that was the year Tim looked like he had joined them. 

“Okay. Yeah. I trust you.” And he does, more than anyone else besides Roy. 

“Good. Come home safe, alright?” 

“Alright.” He closes the call as he steps onto a gargoyle, looking out at the city below.  
++  
Tim’s asleep when he gets home, slumped over on the couch with his head in the crook of his arm, phone still in hand. After checking on Cat, who’s peacefully asleep and wrapped around her Wonder Woman doll, he heads back out to shake Tim awake. “Timmy. Wake up.”

“Mmph.” Tim lifts his head, smiling wide when he meets Jason’s eyes. “You’re back.”

“Yeah. I was gonna make myself something to eat. Come join me.”

“I’m gonna get fat,” Tim complains as they head for the kitchen, where Jason hastily slaps together sandwiches from leftovers.

Looking him up and down, Jason laughs. “What are you, 120 soaking wet?” Tim shoves him lightly, still smiling. They don’t bother sitting at the table, Tim perching on the counter while Jason leans next to him, his thigh pressed to Jason’s bandaged ribs. He took a bad hit on patrol the night before Cat showed up. Nothing serious. 

He’s too tired to talk much, daring to rest his head against Tim’s bare arm, where there’s Catwoman’s telltale scratch marks. She never goes for places that will cause real damage, just warning shots. Well, she does when it comes to them. Jason’s seen thugs with their eyes clawed out before.

Tim seems to feel the same tiredness as he is, his foot swinging loosely. They talk briefly about patrol, about teaching Cat to swim tomorrow, about how Tim’s school is going, and joke back and forth about Tim’s inability to cook. Tim uses his shoulder to balance as he jumps from the counter, standing flat footed and grinning when he reaches the floor. 

His sweatshirt, and this seems to be a reoccurring theme, is terrible. A green circle creature with crazed eyes and a mustache exclaiming “IT’S DELICIOUS!” over a sickly yellow background. Only Tim could make that look good, he thinks, soft. “Go to bed, Tim.”

“I’ve been sleeping too much,” Tim protests as Jason eyes the bags under his eyes. 

“Sure. Go to bed.” 

“Make me.” There’s a brief, charged second where he holds Tim’s eyes, thinking about throwing him over his shoulder, getting his teeth in Tim’s skin, his hands on the thin cut of his hips. _Make me._ He’s always been the kind of person who rises to a challenge. 

“Don’t test me, babybird.” 

Tim’s laughing, the brat. “Fine, fine, tough guy. I’ll go to bed.” He steps back, away from the warmth between them, and slinks over to the couch. “See? Good night.” 

Jason’s a little hard and can’t do anything about it and that’s kind of frustrating. _Tim’s_ kind of frustrating, but that’s been true for a while now. Smiling despite himself, he grunts a good night and heads off to brush his teeth.  
+  
Cat wakes him up screaming less than an hour later, the exhaustion like a physical weight. He rubs sleep from his eyes, fumbling his way out of bed and to her crib. Her green eyes glow eerily in the dark, catching the smallest amount of light just like a real cat. Kori’s do the same thing, scaring the crap out of him and Roy more than once. 

“Baby girl,” he soothes, scooping her up, avoiding her kicking feet. Touching her feels just like grabbing Kori, or Donna. Steel under silk, something unbreakable that feels human until you look close.

“What’s wrong?” Tim asks from the doorway, yawning. 

He looks over his shoulder, unable to see Tim’s face clearly, smiles anyway. “Judging from the smell, full diaper. I’ve got this.” 

“Hm.” Tim makes his way over, leaning his whole body against Jason’s, apparently tired enough that his weird, emotionally neglected rich boy fear of touch has been turned off. He’s warm, bleeding through his clothes and into Jason’s bare skin, his cheek on Jason’s shoulder, arm round his waist, and Jason honestly has no idea what to do for a moment, freezing. 

Cat, neglected, yells louder, grabbing a fistful of his hair. “Da!” 

“No pulling, Cat.” He dislodges himself from Tim, unwilling, and changes her diaper within a few seconds. Already she’s sleepy again, accepting his kiss on the cheek like the princess she is and curling up as soon as he puts her down. 

Tim, back on the couch, waves. “Night!” Jason can still feel his warmth. 

“Yeah. Night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh and i almost forgot! the inspiration for cat calling tim 'mim' comes from the fic 'After the Storm' by ariadne83 and somehowunbroken, it's a jaytim fic where damian is jason's and it's /fantastic/, go read it i read the whole thing in like a night it's great :)


	4. close encounter of the fifth kind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmm i just love this story it's very easy to write anyway enjoy the fluff :)

“I know you’re there, Kori.” He’s been smoking on the fire escape for twenty minutes, leaning against the brick wall of his apartment, not willing to risk Cat inhaling smoke. 

Kori might not realize it, but she reeks of ozone, of the sun. He knows that smell anywhere, Cat is the same. “Hello, Jason.” She touches down lightly on the step in front of him, making him look up at her. As usual. They exchange a brief hug before Kori’s stepping back, brow furrowing. “How is she?”

He shrugs, stubbing his cigarette out on the windowsill. It’s sometimes hard to look at her, she’s that beautiful. Nothing human can be _that_ beautiful. “Cat’s good. Settling in.” He snorts a laugh, smiling like he always does when he thinks of her. “She learned a new word yesterday.” He would tell Kori that Cat misses her still, but he doesn’t want her to feel guilty. “She’s very proud.”

Kori smiles, relief washing over her face even as she glances towards his window, uncertain, which is a rare look on her. “She is very bright.” In more ways than one.

“Yeah. I’m gonna try and teach her Spanish.” 

“You don’t have to.” He raises an eyebrow, cause Spanish is his first language, and Kori knows it’s important to him. “Because she’s Tamaranean,” Kori explains. “When she gets older, she’ll learn languages with a touch.”

“You don’t know that,” he argues, keeping his tone mild. “Cat’s the first of her kind. Maybe she won’t get that ability.” Kori concedes with a smile, as sweet-natured as their daughter. Out of all the women he’s known, he’s lucky to have a kid with her. At least there won’t be long, vicious custody battles or anything. When he catches another wistful glance towards the window, he throws it open, feeling the air conditioning leak out. “Do you wanna see her?” 

“Yes, that would cause me much happiness!” God, she’s cute. That’ll probably never change. 

“Come on in, then. She’s asleep though.” Kori climbs in after him, standing to her full height once she’s inside, looking out of place in his crummy apartment, the wallpaper behind her peeling. They head towards his bedroom together, Kori’s heat tangible even a foot away, her footsteps almost as soundless as his, and lean over Cat’s crib.  
She’s asleep on her back, one arm over her head, lips parted. He’s probably biased, but she’s definitely the most beautiful child in the world. Kori touches her cheek with the backs of her fingers, whispering in Tamaranean, looking…He’s not sure what, but he doesn’t like that expression on Kori’s face, something negative that doesn’t belong.  
“Kori.” She moves back when Cat stirs, watching him with wide green eyes, emotions all over her face. He’s not Cass, he can’t read body language like a book, but with her he doesn’t have to. “She’s, uh, your kid too. I make sure she knows you love her.”

He’s not gonna be a dick, take Cat away from a mom who wants to give what she can. And he _loves_ Kori. He always will, in some way. Both her and Cat deserve to know each other. “Much thanks, Jason!”

Strong orange arms are thrown around his shoulders, almost sending him to the floor, surrounded by sunlight and warmth and _Kori_. He almost chokes on her hair, which would still be a better way to go out than he did. “Yeah. Um. You’re welcome.”  
++  
Kori leaves with a beaming smile and a promise to return, which she may or may not remember. It’s fine, he can remind her, make sure she catches birthdays and big steps, even if he has to record them for later.

When he comes back inside Tim’s back on the couch like he never left, absorbed in a book that’s thicker than Roy’s biceps. And that’s pretty fucking thick. “Thought I’d give you guys some privacy,” he explains without prompting, turning a page. 

“Thanks, babybird.” Jason sits back on the window sill, paint chips flaking off under his hands. He’ll have to fix that later, it’s not safe for Cat.

“Is she going to be alright?” 

“Cat? Sure, she-”

“I mean Kori.” Tim’s holding his gaze, and Jason’s reminded that Tim watched him for years before they met, even before he was dead. Tim uses his voyeuristic tendencies like a scalpel, and being a direct recipient of that gaze always makes him wonder just how much Tim knows about him. It’s kind of a turn on and scary as hell at the same time.

“Huh. Well, yeah. I think so. Cat will be in her life, one way or another.” He’s wondering why Tim would care, wasn’t aware he even _knew_ Kori beyond more than a vague idea of her.

Tim reads his mind, continuing, “We worked together on the Titans for a bit. She was nice.” Kori has a soft spot for Robins, no matter who’s in the costume. 

“Aw, babybird. Did you get hit on by the mother of my child?” He’s kind of lost in that image for a moment; Kori towering over Tim, her big hands on his shoulders, overwhelming in the way only she can be, Tim blushing and staring. _Nice_. A soft no is his only answer, so he dumps himself on the couch next to Tim, feeling mischievous, leaning too close to peer at Tim’s book. “What’re you reading?” Tim rattles off something long and in German and probably as pretentious as the movies he was watching the other day. “Is it translated to English?”

Tim gives him a confused look, like regular people just…learn the language for things they want to read. God, this kid. “No. It reads better this way.”

“Uh huh.” Giving up on Tim as a target, he goes to the kitchen to Facetime Roy.  
+++  
When Jason comes home from work (as in, he just stole eight million dollars from one of Maroni’s stash houses) he’s kind of pissed off to find there’s someone in his apartment that he didn’t invite, drinking coffee with Tim as they play Monopoly. 

But it is Stephanie Brown, and she’s the least annoying of the whole family before Tim, much less inclined to get all sad over his death. There’s something…not all there about her, though, and it makes him uncomfortable, keeping a close eye on Cat as she crawls all over Steph’s lap, fascinated with this new person, touching her blonde hair. Steph takes it with a distant smile, leaning back on her hands, content to let Cat do what she likes. After Black Mask’s torture, she returned different, and, as he watches Tim’s eyes track over her face, it’s worrying. 

“Hi, Jason.” She’s still one of them, so he nods at her, removing his helmet then shrugging his jacket off. 

“Hey.” Cat reaches for him, babbling his name, so he scoops her up, kissing her face all over as she giggles. “Hello, pumpkin. Daddy just beat up a lot of people to pay for your diapers!” And her clothes, and food, and housing, and, with a score this big, everything up to and including college. Cat will _never_ go hungry, she’ll never be out on the street scrounging through garbage for leftovers, or curled up in a cardboard box in a blizzard, lighting matches to warm her fingers. She won’t live the life he did. 

“And people say your morals are in the wrong place,” Tim says, sardonic, passing Go and collecting $200. 

Jason grins and ruffles his hair. “Maybe my morals are wrong, but now I can pay people to teach her better.” It’s not his fault, but Tim doesn’t get being poor, doesn’t understand that Jason would slaughter a warehouse full of goons with a smile on his face to keep Cat from going without.  
Tim pushes his hand away, carefully rearranging his hair back into place, which is hard with only one hand. The Pit is telling him to take a handful of it and _pull_ , see how Tim looks with his neck exposed, with Jason’s teeth there. _Fuck_. Shaking the thought from his head, he crouches to watch their game, lets Cat pull at the collar of his shirt til the stitches tear. “Gentle, pumpkin,” he reminds her, hoping the lessons will sink in before he accidentally turns her into a supervillain. 

“Mim?” she tries, turning to Tim like _he’s_ the one in charge.

“Gentle,” Tim reinforces, closing her tiny hands into fists and kissing them, so close to Jason he can breathe in the soap he used this morning. Cat giggles, opening and closing her hands when he lets them go, seemingly entertained enough to forget about Jason’s shirt.  
+++  
Jason keeps having nightmares that he’s in the Pit, gasping down poison, brought back like a shock, sure that he’d drown and come back over and over, Talia’s merciless eyes watching him from above. Sometimes she’s replaced with Bruce, or Roy, or Tim. He always has fucking nightmares about that, though. 

What he doesn’t have, usually, is nightmares about other people, not until Cat. Blurry, half finished, Cat’s crying and he can’t reach her, wandering through crowds that all have Joker’s grinning face, watching him, or she’s cracking like a porcelain doll, shattering to dust in his fingers. 

He gasps awake, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds to steady himself, it’s not real and he _knows_ that, he’s not going to be another victim of the Pit who succumbs to bloodlust and hallucinations. Instead, he rolls over, punching his mattress once, grinding his fist into the sheets. A little too late he remembers that he bruised his knuckles on some metahuman thug with super tough skin, wincing as pain spikes up his arm. At least it’s grounding.

“Jay?” He’s not too proud to admit that he shrieks a bit, sitting up to see Tim in the doorway. The lamp near the couch must be on, streaming light in behind him. “You were making these kind of…whimpering noises? Are you okay?” How fucking stereotypical, Jason a damsel in distress who needs to be comforted over a _nightmare_. Cat makes a displeased sound, squirming in her crib, so Jason leaves his bed, going into the living room with Tim after closing the door behind himself.

He’s still nervous, his hands shaking, so he puts them in his pockets. “You don’t think, um, that Cat will ever stop being invulnerable, right?” he asks instead of responding to Tim’s question, as they settle at opposite ends of the couch, Tim awkwardly maneuvering his arm around. “That it’s unlikely?” 

“Yes,” Tim answers, _watching_ him until Jason has to turn his gaze away. They sit for a minute as Jason tries to regulate his heartbeat, picking at threads in the cushions. “What would you do if she died?” 

He shudders at the thought of it, of never seeing Cat grow up, leaving her small body in a coffin to mourn. He has a sudden, unexpected sympathy for Bruce, though of course, if someone killed Cat, Jason would gut them and feast on their heart. He knows he’s irrational when it comes to her and he’s okay with that.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, knowing that Tim is weird when it comes to people dying on him. When Bruce died Tim searched the whole _world_ , refusing to let go until Bruce was back, and then he fucking tried to _clone_ Superboy, which no one ever brings up. Tim desperate is…kind of terrifying. People see his pretty face and forget he has a brain like a scalpel. “Start drinking, I guess.” His dad was an alcoholic, he would only be carrying on the family tradition. He doesn’t bother considering the Pit, knows that’s not even an option. Cat coming back warped is worse than never coming back at all. 

“Well, that’s not going to happen.” Tim’s voice is warm now, stretching his legs out to touch Jason’s thigh. “I promise.” 

He holds Tim’s ankle, squeezing the thin bones, taking comfort from touch. “Okay, babybird.” Weirdly enough, he believes him.


	5. Let's All Enjoy Lisa Simpson's Rendition of Stormy Weather

Jason catches the Batarang inches from his face, slicing the tips of his fingers. They drip blood down sleek metal as he grins, raising a challenging eyebrow behind the helmet. “That’s a hell of a greeting.” 

Damian, crouched on the fire escape over Jason’s head, another Batarang already in his hand, snarls. He kind of looks like an actual demon right now, shrouded in darkness, the whiteout lenses of the domino mask reflecting light. “You _stole_ Tim.”

“You don’t even like him!” Jason protests, taking his helmet off specifically to show Damian that he’s not scared of him. He dropped the little monster off a roof once, he can do it again. “And it’s just cause his arm’s broken.” 

“He’s a necessary component of my operations,” Damian hisses, unfolding to flip down to the ground, stalking over to attempt to loom. He’s gotten a little taller, but he doesn’t have Bruce’s bulk yet, so it’s not very effective.

“It almost sounds like you miss him,” Jason teases, grinning wider in that cocky way everyone hates, carelessly checking his hands. The gloves are cut through, which is annoying. Shouldn’t be too hard to replace though, and the cuts have already stopped bleeding. “Sorry.” 

“If you could keep your dick in your pants, Tim would be home,” Damian half-yells, and Jason chokes on his own laughter. 

“It’s not like I’m the first one in the family to have an accident,” he says, leaning close til he’s almost nose to nose with Damian. “Right?” Damian’s eyes widen, and Jason kinda feels like that was too far. Damian can be annoying, but he’s young and he’s doing his best. Jason knows well what the League can do to a person. “But, I guess you’re pretty fun to have around,” he continues, studiously careless. “Bruce coulda done worse.” 

Damian straightens, back to the haughty baby warrior, and lifts his chin. “Grayson has told me that your daughter is quite beautiful.” Talking to Damian is like talking to a romance novel hero, he swears to God. 

But he accepts the compliment and peace offering, smiling down at Damian; the kid’s gotten taller as puberty sets in, though he has a long way to go before he’s Jason or Dick’s height. “Yeah, she’s gorgeous. Looks just like her mom.” 

“Lucky for her,” Damian sneers, seemingly unable to be pleasant for more than a few seconds. Jason’s always liked that about him, he can’t stand saccharine sweetness. Except on Dick, because with Dick he knows it’s genuine. 

“You don’t think I’m pretty, little bird?” Damian flushes red under the copper of his skin, which is _hilarious_ , and growls a goodbye before taking off into the sky. Jason gives a sarcastic wave.  
+++  
Tim’s licking vanilla ice cream from his fingers and Jason’s…kind of getting really stupid with it, fumbling his own cone, dripping peppermint ice cream down his chin, almost forgetting to stop Cat from punching holes in the glass table; she’s not that strong yet, but with invulnerable skin she doesn’t need to be. The contest between glass and harder than diamond skin is never a fair one.

“No, Cat,” he chides, folding her little fist in his hand, swallowing it, feeling how her fingers are sticky and cold.

“Gentle?” she asks, her most difficult word. She probably learned it so fast cause he and Tim use it all the time. 

“Yeah, pumpkin.” He steals a lick of her chocolate cone, getting it on the tip of his nose to make her smile. If any of the gangs he used to run with saw this, they’d probably shit themselves laughing. The sun is out in full today, bringing out rich reds in her dark hair, onto the delicate folds of her eyelids as she tilts her head back with her eyes closed, absorbing as much as she can. 

It gives him enough time to sneak glances at Tim, who’s now running his pink tongue up the back of his hand, lashes fanning low over his cheek, appearing for all the world to be oblivious. Jason wants to _wreck_ him, which. Is probably not appropriate to be thinking, for a bunch of different reasons, so he shakes that thought away and goes back to texting Roy about Lian, wondering when they became such _dads_. Jason can kill a man with just a thumb and has before, but now he’s arguing with Roy about the best hair tie to match Lian’s first day of school outfit. 

“Jason?” 

He glances up from his phone to see Tim looking over his shoulder, says without thinking, “Yeah, pretty bird?” _Damnit_. He can feel his ears heat up and hopes Tim doesn’t notice. 

When he dares to look up Tim is blinking, doe eyed, deceptively pretty. Tim wields his looks like he does everything else; with surgical precision, exact in every way. “Excuse me?”

“It’s nothing,” Jason mutters, using Cat as a distraction and feeling mildly guilty about it as he fusses over her dress, some filmy Tamaranean thing Kori brought with her. She frowns and swats his hands away, as particular as her mother about her clothing or lack thereof. “What were you gonna ask me?” 

Tim gives him a look that says he’s fooling nobody, but continues with, “My arm’ll be healed soon.” 

“Uh huh,” Jason mumbles, legitimately focused on Cat now, wondering why Tamaranean clothing has so many fucking _gems_ on it, making the fabric fall all weird. “Wait.” The thought of Tim not living with him after so many weeks together is. Unsettling. Weird. Jason wouldn’t have seen a life like this, a kid and Tim and _domesticity_ , but now that he’s had it he doesn’t want anything else. He’s not like Bruce, who’ll brood alone in his office forever, refusing to settle down. Jason has a _family_. “You’re leaving?”

“Not yet!” Tim rushes to reassure, thunking his broken arm on the table as he does so, startling Cat into a soft, “Mim?” 

_What will she do without you?_ Jason wants to ask. _What will_ I _do?_ Guilt-tripping Tim like that would be selfish though, Jason fisting his hands at his sides to resist the urge. He’s not always the bad guy people see him as, he thinks. Hopes.  
He is, however, starting to understand why Bruce took Tim on after he died, life with Tim being so much easier than life without him. Tim is always _there_ , smart and observant and prepared for everything. He makes a great hero, a great friend. 

“It’s fine, Cat,” Tim soothes, pushing thick black hair away from her face. “I’ll still visit,” he promises, aimed more towards Jason then Cat although he’s looking at her. “I’ll visit,” he repeats, swinging his gaze towards Jason, fitting what’s left of his ice cream cone into a neat pile in a cup, fastidious in this as he is in all things.

“You fucking better,” Jason grunts, resorting to gruffness as a defense against everything else he wants to say. 

“Fuck!” Cat agrees, copying what he says as usual, and the conversation ends as they both wince.  
+  
Steph Brown is at his apartment again when they return, Cass with her, the two rarely far apart. Cass moves around her like a shadow, watching, protective, curling herself around Steph until he can’t tell them apart. He wonders what Cass reads in Steph, if there’s anything at all to be read from her anymore. He hopes so. 

“Child,” Cass begins impromptu of nothing, dislodging herself from Steph to reach for Cat. Tim gives her up right away, which kind of annoys Jason. What if he doesn’t trust Cass to take care of his kid? Then again, that’s probably the Pit talking, cause he trusts Cass with his life and even if he didn’t, Cat is basically indestructible. “Lovely,” she observes, the first thing most people say when they see Cat.

He’ll need to make sure she focuses on other things besides her looks; if he does it right, she’ll be as strong and self-confident as Kori, beauty, brains, and solar pulses all in one package. Steph boops her nose with a finger, one corner of her mouth lifting when Cat reaches out to touch her skin. It occurs to Jason that Cat hasn’t seen many white people besides her and Roy. Not up close, anyway.

Cat twists in Cass’s arms to reach for him, uncharacteristically clingy today, and Cass gives her up without protest. “What’re you guys doing here?” Jason asks, smiling to soften the edge of it. He isn’t sure when his place became well known and often visited, but what’s done is done, his mom always used to say. If he really starts to hate it, he’ll move. 

“Steph…wanted to g-gaze Cat,” Cass tries, furrowing her brow when the words don’t come out right, clearly untangling them in her head. “Steph...wanted to… _see_ Cat,” she says, grinning. Jason flicks his gaze to Steph, who’s standing stock-still, zoned out.

“Uh…huh,” Jason responds, not entirely sure he believes Cass. He’s not sure Steph wants anything at all. Then again, he thinks, watching her eyes flick from Cat to Tim then back to the floor, what does he know of Steph Brown? Less then he knows about mental illness, or fighting off memories that seem to sink in claws. At least he can understand that. “She’s welcome to come see her any time.” 

He’ll need a babysitter eventually, and Steph had a baby once, right? It’s kind of the same thing only not at all. This earns him a smile from Cass and an approving look from Tim, who’s opening the door so they’re not left standing awkwardly in the hall. “Come in,” Tim says, like this is his home too, like he _belongs_ here.

Which, he _could_ , Jason thinks petulantly, watching Tim settle in his usual place on the couch. He could if Jason could pull his own head from his ass and say what he needs to. Instead, he settles next to Tim, pulling his feet over his lap, and listens to Cass talk nonsense to Cat.  
+++  
“If you would just fucking _listen_ to me, Jay,” Tim hisses, almost yelling but there’s a smile playing across his features. Jason loves when Tim calls him Jay; he only ever does it when they’re relaxed or too tired to be formal, a little affectionate thing that warms in his chest. Dick and Roy are the only other people who nickname him, though with them it’s different. 

“I’m just saying, baby bird. _Empire Strikes Back_ is the best one.” 

He grins, cocky and wide, sinking into the couch as Tim shifts to face him, laser focused. “Except for how it’s _not_ ,” he argues. “ _Return of the Jedi_ is the best of the old ones, everyone knows that.”

“What can I say?” Jason teases. “I’ve always preferred the second act.” When did it become easy to joke about his time as Robin, he wonders. Maybe because Tim just rolls with it.

“Third is better,” comes the casual response, Tim still watching him even as Han attacks the base on Endor. Over the course of the movie Tim’s moved closer, his whole left side pressed to Jason’s, broken arm digging into his ribs, Tim’s left leg over his. He eyes the soft hollow behind Tim’s ear, distracted entirely. 

“Let’s agree to disagree,” he concedes, leaning in to whisper, letting his lips brush Tim’s ear. The full body shiver he receives is flattering; he drops his voice an octave, rumbling, “Unless you want to keep fighting.”

Tim gives him a look, unperturbed, raising an eyebrow. “You think you can take me?” Jason is about to respond with _exactly_ how well he can take Tim when Cat cries out from the bedroom, breaking the tension. 

Sighing inwardly, Jason heaves himself over the back of the couch, using the momentum to jog into his room. “What is it, princess of my heart?” he sing songs. “Or, princess in general.” Kori is a princess on her planet, after all. 

“Da,” she whines, eyes glowing in the dark. “Wanna glorrk.” 

“Glorrk?” he asks, baffled, turning the light on to see her properly.

She winces, turning away for a second, then whining again. “Gloooorrk.” He thinks, _maybe_ , she might be speaking Tamaranean. 

“Um. Sorry, pumpkin. I can’t get that for you.” Dissolving rapidly into screams, Cat punches the slats of her crib, splintering them. “Hey! No,” Jason warns, and to her credit Cat pulls back, keeping her temper tantrum to just yelling. 

Tim has gotten up to join him, watching as Cat’s skin flushes umber, probably wishing he was back at the Manor right now. “I’ll call Kori,” he offers, Jason’s phone already in hand, knowing the password even though Jason’s 100% sure he’s never told him. Looks like ‘not understanding basic privacy’ runs in the family.

Jason chooses to crouch in front of Cat’s crib, just watching. All the parenting blogs he’s been reading say not to yell or punish when kids have tantrums, and they’ve usually been pretty accurate. Although, Cat is definitely more developed than the average human child. “Hi, Kori,” Tim says behind him, pointing at the phone when Jason looks back, tossing it to him when Jason nods.

“Hey,” he says over the sounds of Cat’s screams, getting up to leave the room and motioning for Tim to stay with her. 

“X’hal, Jason. Why are you calling at this hour?” From what Jason understands, X’hal is a kind of god to Tamaraneans, and he takes a brief moment to wonder what religion they’ll raise Cat in. He’s fine with Kori’s; he’s not religious at all, not after he died and all he saw was black.

“Sorry, Kori. Do you know what a glorrk is?” 

She makes an affirming noise, yawning. “It’s a Tamaranean dish. It has much deliciousness!” 

“Huh. Well, how close are you?” He’s pretty sure Kori’s in the same time zone, and she can fly fast. 

“Is Cat alright?” she asks, sharp in a way she usually isn’t.

“Yeah. She’s just throwing a tantrum. She wants this…glorrk.” Jason has the _weirdest_ life sometimes. He can’t believe he’s talking about his half-human baby with the alien mother of his child. “Do you have any?”

“I do!” Kori answers, bright again like it isn’t ass crack in the morning. “I will be over in a few of your Earth minutes.” He snorts a laugh, knowing she’s pulling the ‘confused alien’ joke again, and hangs up with a goodbye. 

“Kori will be here in a few,” he calls to Tim, throwing the window to the fire escape open, grateful that his building faces a blank brick wall and has few neighbors. Kori is probably one of the most visible people in his life, besides Dick, who, like Kori, is so beautiful it’s impossible not to notice him.

“Okay!” Tim calls back, being a trooper as Cat probably screams in his ear.  
+  
Kori shows up outsides his window as always, perfect and put together even at this ungodly hour. She’s carrying a small Tupperware container that looks wrong in her hands, something so normal against something godlike.

“Glorrk!” she announces as she bends to step through his window, hair billowing behind her. Jason follows her to his room, where Tim sits head in hands, mildly ridiculous in his boxers and Superboy t-shirt, cast at an awkward angle. Cat is still screaming, kicking her legs so hard the crib is shaking, in danger of collapse. “Hello, little Robin,” she starts, which would probably be more accurate for Damian nowadays but Tim accepts it with a smile.

“Hi, Kori.” She sweeps to the crib, easily picking Cat up with one hand, not as careful with her as Jason or Tim are, speaking in Tamaranean. 

Popping open the Tupperware, she offers it to Cat, who’s calm now and watching Kori with wide eyes. “Ko?” Kori responds in Tamaranean, setting her down gently, leaving the container in her lap. To Jason, it looks like mold, but Cat seems thrilled, scooping it into her mouth with both hands. “Glorrk!” 

Kori pets her hair, fond; she dwarfs Tim as she puts an arm round his shoulder, pulling him close. Physically affectionate doesn’t even begin to describe Kori. Tim looks a bit baffled at what to do with so much skin so close, eventually choosing to freeze in place. Jason would ask Kori to have mercy on him if it wasn’t so funny.

Placated, Cat is already slipping back into sleep even as she won’t take her gaze off Kori, grabbing for her, making sleepy baby noises. Kori still holds her hand after she’s asleep, leaning on Jason when he steps next to her. Tim’s been kind enough to turn the lights off, and Kori’s eyes glow at him just like Cat’s.

“Do you want to stay the night?” he asks, figuring it won’t kill him to share a bed with her. 

“I must return,” she answers, not specifying where. Could be Roy, could be Dick, could be some alien thing she’s too distracted to share. “You will let Cat know I love her?”

“Of course.” Cat will grow up surrounded by love, _sure_ that she is loved. He’ll go to therapy and everything if that’s what it takes. 

“I leave now, then.” Kori bends to press a kiss to his forehead, lips burning hot, and leaves the way she came, drawing Tim in for a forehead kiss as well. They’re left standing in his living room, Jason with the half full Tupperware in his hands, wondering if glorrk should be refrigerated. 

Tim scratches at the edges of his cast, making a face. “I’m exhausted. Save _Force Awakens_ for tomorrow?”

“Sure. We already watched the best one outta all of them.”

“Force Awakens _is_ the best one of them all,” Tim begins, interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn. 

“Sure, baby bird. Go to sleep and we’ll argue tomorrow.” 

“I’m right,” Tim grumbles as he pulls himself over the back of the couch that surely has a permanent print of his body now, settling in with the blanket to his chin. “Night.” 

“Night.” Tim gives a small wave as Jason goes to his room, where he dreams of orange skin and fungus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i love kori and jason and tim and dick and ALL OF THEM so much. also my personal favorite star wars movie is force awakens just to put that out there. i always start out writing more of this intending to write only a few hundred words and then end up writing 3000. final addition-every time i read damian saying 'you stole tim' all i can think of is 'YOU STOLE FIZZY LIFTING DRINKS' that movie was weird as hell


	6. Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that's it i guess hope you guys enjoyed my first and probably only kidfic :) anyway i realized recently that like i'm terrible at linear storytelling? so i should probably work on that BUT on the other hand, i don't really want to

“You remember Roy, right, pumpkin?” Cat is happy to see another person, interested in Roy’s all-red armor. She smiles, reaching out to touch Roy’s armor, hold on to him. Roy, laughing, kisses her round orange cheek; he’s always been almost as physically affectionate as Kori.

“Kanga!” she crows.

“Kanga, awee,” Roy answers without appearing to think about it, then shakes his head. “Wait. That was Navajo.” He grins at Cat, bouncing her a little. “Look at you, sweetheart. You really are just like your mom.” 

Cat learns languages through touch, then, Jason thinks. Good. 

“Who’s my smart girl?” he coos, booping her nose. Cat keeps babbling happily in Navajo, as Roy talks back to her, and Jason is so happy that it feels like it’s swelling in his chest, like he can’t handle it. He doesn’t _deserve_ to be this happy, but he is anyway, slinging an arm around Tim’s shoulders as he appears next to him. He’ll take what he can get while he can.  
+++  
See, the problem is that Jason _likes_ Tim. Soon as the whole vengeance thing was over, anyway. And that would be fine, if he only likes Tim. He could deal with that. 

But his eyes follow Tim’s every movement, the graceful turn of his hands, the way his face scrunches up all funny when he actually lets himself laugh; he notices that Tim’s eyes are warm brown and sharp, that Tim is smarter than all of them. Jason can’t deal with that, deal that he’s into Tim who’ll never give him a chance. Not that Jason deserves one.  
Now Tim’s living with him for the foreseeable future, raising his kid, a life Jason wanted but thinks he’ll never quite have. 

Jason watches Tim from under his eyelashes, thoughtful. Tim is focused on his game, Cat in his lap and she’s apparently just as fascinated as Jason is with Tim; she has a fistful of his t-shirt that she’s gumming on, shouting “No!” every time Tim tries to dislodge her. Her head tips up, examining his face. Apparently satisfied with that she sees, she settles deeper into his lap, grinning. 

“You’re looming,” Tim says without looking up. 

“Oh. Sorry.” Jason settles back; he knows the broad breadth of his shoulders is intimidating, he just forgets sometimes. “I’m going on patrol. Can you stay with Cat?” 

Tim gives him a look, lifting up his bad arm. “S’not like I’m going anywhere.”

“Aw, Timmy. It’s only a few more days.” A few more days til Tim goes back to the Manor and Jason has to learn how to live without him. Tim doesn’t answer, attention drawn back to his game.  
+  
“Assistance,” Cass is saying through the comms, slightly breathless. 

Jason immediately heads towards her location; if Cass is willing to admit she needs help, the situation is dire. “What’s up, Batgirl?”

“Joker.” 

Jason hesitates, almost stumbling, before he’s back at a dead run again. “I’ll be right there.” 

“Nightwing’s already on his way, Spoiler too,” Tim butts in, because of _course_ he’d be listening over the comms. 

“It’s Joker, they’ll need all the help they can get,” Jason answers, grappling over a corner store and onto an apartment building. 

“Jason…” 

“No real names on the comms, _Timmy_.” He turns his earpiece off before Tim can say anything else, only hearing his own loud breathing. 

He’ll be _fine_ , he’s faced Joker before…from a distance. Or the one time he tried to get Bruce to kill him. Sometimes Jason wakes up from dreams where the Joker’s acid breath is on his face, bone white hands wrapped around his neck, in so much pain it no longer registers. But it’s _fine_. He’ll be fine.

Sucking in air that doesn’t seem to come, he skids into the warehouse Cass’s transmission came from, only to find that Dick and Steph are already there, Dick’s foot planted on the head of an unconscious Joker. Steph is handcuffing a struggling Harley, her pigtails bouncing as she throws a tantrum. “ _C’mon_ , Spoiler. Gimme a break.”

Steph’s frowning as she leads Harley to the nearby cops; she likes Harley, they all do. “I thought you were done with Joker.”

Harley shrugs, something miserable tugging at the corner of her lips. “Well, y’know. I got lonely. And he got out of Arkham.” 

“Oh, _Harley_ ,” Steph sighs, sadness tinging the edges of her voice. Their conversation fades as they walk farther, til it’s just him, Dick, and Cass standing over Joker.

“Hood,” Dick greets as Cass nods hello. “Red Robin wants to know if you’re alright.” 

“Course I am,” he drawls, glad for the helmet so they don’t see how he can’t look directly at Joker.

“You should go home then. You, uh. Have someone waiting for you.” Dick’s never been a good liar, but Jason will take the excuse to get away from Joker. 

“Right. See ya.” He tosses off a mocking salute and heads out.  
+++  
“What the _fuck_ are you doing here?” Jason spits, stepping over the glass he dropped when Bruce appeared out of fucking _nowhere_ , looming and creeping like he always does. Tim is conveniently hanging out with Duke, and Jason’s wondering how much of that is actually coincidence. Cat is playing in the other room, so they’re alone, completely silent besides the sink that’s still running. 

Jason reaches over to turn it off, never taking his eyes from Bruce, who’s too much of a damn _coward_ to do this without masks. “I wanted to see the child.”

“Gosh, B. I’d almost think you care.” There’s a shiver of suspicion; Bruce is here to take Cat away from him, take the only family he’s ever managed to hold on to. “She’s _mine_.” He’s slid his hand to the sheath at his waist, not sure what he would do if Bruce presses. Attack him? Try to cut the mask from his face?

But Bruce sighs, that long, half fond half exasperated one he saves for Robins only. “Jason.” 

“What?” He summons up his best cocky grin, leaning his hip against the kitchen counter. “What, are you gonna tell me I’m not good enough to be a dad? At least I won’t let her die on me, right, B?” 

Bruce winces, a barely noticeable downward twitch of his mouth. “Can we…not do this tonight, Jason?” That’s unexpected enough that he blinks, letting his hands dangle loosely at his sides. Now, he can faintly hear Cat’s happy babbling. 

“Do what?” He gets a long look, though he already understood the answer to that question. “Fine. Sure.” Bruce waits patiently until Jason sighs and heads for Cat, grumbling, “I’ll get her.” 

Cat’s been going through this phase lately where she really hates the color blue, so she’s currently ripping apart one of his nicer blue dress shirts, little hands tearing easily through the fabric. She looks up, grinning, crowing, “Da!” 

“Hey, pumpkin. There’s someone new here.” 

“Mim?” 

“No, Tim’s still gone, that backstabbing bastard.” She babbles in Spanish and Tamaranean, green eyes alight. Bruce hasn’t moved an inch, watching them through the lenses of the mask no doubt. “This is B, Cat.”

She examines his face, reaching out to touch his skin, which is a shade darker than Tim’s. Tamaraneans are touch oriented, whether they know the person or not. “Beeeeeeee,” she exclaims, probably pleased to make another friend. 

Bruce’s usually stubborn grimace softens into a smile as she prods at his cheek, goes happily into his arms. She probably doesn’t even notice his armor. “She’s strong,” Bruce observes, the first person to comment on something besides her beauty. 

“Yeah,” Jason grunts, taking her back as protectiveness coils in his gut again. “Thanks,” he adds, trying to be nice, picturing how sad Tim’s face would look if he came home and Jason was fist fighting Bruce. Tim’s eyes are huge and liquid and devastating when he’s upset, Jason can’t deal with that. 

“I was just stopping by,” Bruce says abruptly, striding past him and to the window cause God forbid he take the fucking door.

“Uh huh. Do I measure up?” Jason asks, snide. 

Bruce looks over his shoulder from where he’s crouched on the fire escape, saying, “You always have, Jason,” before he’s gone, and Jason groans because he _hates_ when Bruce is nice, it makes everything so confusing. 

“Bye!” Cat calls, waving, and he presses a kiss to her hair, smelling ozone and apricot shampoo.

“Hope you liked Grandpa, pumpkin.”  
++  
Tim comes home after dark, the coward. Probably figures Jason is asleep by now, except he underestimated how much of an asshole Jason is. Jason’s been sitting in the dark for an hour now, on his phone, turning it off to lurk any time he hears someone walking by. He learned how to lurk from the best, after all.

At last the door knob turns, slowly, almost noiseless, and Tim slips inside, his back turned as he shuts the door at a glacial pace. 

“Hey.”

Tim jumps a mile, dropping the iced coffee he was holding; it’s twelve but Tim’s a caffeine addict. “Shit!” Jason laughs and gets up to help him as Tim fumbles for the light, his usual precise grace forgotten for a moment. “You’re such an _asshole_.” 

“You Bruce’d me,” Jason points out, scooping as much ice into the cup as he can, briefly touching Tim’s hand. “Without warning.” 

Tim lets out a breath, heading to the kitchen to grab a towel and spray. “It was going to happen eventually,” he says as he comes back, tossing the towel to Jason. 

“Coulda used a warning.”

Tim crouches next to him as he dries, watching. Always watching. “Sorry.”

“Hmph.”

“How’d it go?”

Floor dried, Jason sprays cleaner and scrubs again, til he’s satisfied that it’s clean enough to pass muster, sitting back on his ankles.

“Well, I didn’t shank Bruce and stuff him in a closet, if that’s what you’re asking.” When he looks up their faces are very close, his gaze going from Tim’s mouth and back without him intending to. “Um.” There’s a brief second before he’s got a lapful of Tim, their mouths connecting, almost brutal til Jason tugs his head back a little to gentle it, biting Tim’s bottom lip.  
He slides his hands under Tim’s shirt and up, feeling silk skin and scars, as it feels like every part of his body is suddenly raw, lighting up. Tim makes a noise in the back of his throat that Jason wants to hear every day for the rest of his _life_ , chasing it with his tongue. When they break for air Jason can only hear his own pulse, thrumming in his ears, focusing on Tim’s blown out pupils, darting in to kiss him again before he can help it. “ _Jesus_ , baby bird. Does murder get you hot, or am I just lucky?” 

“You’re were taking too long,” Tim explains, breathless, Jason nipping at his jaw, his neck. “I got tired of waiting.” 

He rests his head on Tim’s shoulder, laughing; they’re both hard, but that can wait. “What did you want me to do, Tim? Beg you to put your cock down my throat?” He kinda thought subtlety was a virtue. 

“ _Yes_.” Jason chokes on his own laughter, looking up at Tim, feeling the Pit rear its head in agreement and for once they’re on the same wavelength. Tim’s grinning down at him, fierce, kisses him hard.

“Cat’s in the next room,” Jason manages to get out, head spinning. 

“I’m not gonna fuck you, Jay. Just kiss me.” 

“Glad to,” he murmurs, hearing Tim groan, “ _Cheesy_ ,” but Jason’s so happy he doesn’t really care. He’ll be as soppy as he wants to be.


End file.
